Those colder nights still dwell inside me, the farther lights that spoiled the moon. The neigh of horses trampled my sleep. The days that worked with me, the sweat that drenched me. O world! Don’t teach me how to live, I have outlived you, your filthy life stinks on the both sides-the poor and the rich. I have seen gutters oozing fragrance. Don’t teach me the rule of law. Just leave me in the shadow of this lamp post, I’m meditating my goodness out, I’m making space for evil. The world sees me as miniature as itself, but I ain’t, the fierce cult I have managed to grow will one day decide their fate.
There he comes with the humble, decieving smile. There he smutts his less perched dune of faith on his head. His cap is the viel that makes his evil conceal. There inside he relishes on the young human meat. There they sit praying him as if they found the one. The God they see ain’t a god. Just a faint filthy mark they worship, the moment they realise their clumsiness they ain’t believers, they join me in the ranks of rebels-the role models.
God I saw in him one time, the devil I fathomed is a complicated truth they never will understand. Believe me you fools, the love ain’t love, it is just reflection of fear.

By aamerbasher

Aamir Bashir is a Romance fiction writer. He has been writing for a while. Her Choice to Love is his first book.

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